Topsy-Turvy Land eBook

understand how happy the children of Israel were after
their journey in the desert, when they came to Elim
where “there were twelve wells of water and
threescore and ten palm trees.” In summer
time many of the town Arabs leave their houses in
the city and go to camp out in the date-gardens to
enjoy the cool shades. The Arab poets have written
many poems in praise of their favourite tree and fruit,
but none of them are so funny as these lines which
Campbell wrote from Algiers where the date tree also
flourishes and with which we will end this chapter:

“Though my letter bears
date as you view
From the land of the date-bearing
palm
I will palm no more puns upon
you.”

VIII

THE SHEPHERD OF THE SEWING MACHINE

In the blue waters of the Persian Gulf there lies
a coral island called Bahrein. At a few hundred
yards to the northeast of it is a still smaller island
shaped like a pack-saddle, where palm trees and white
coral rock houses are reflected in the salt water
at high tide. The little island town is called
Moharrek, that is, the “Burning Place,”
because it is very hot there in summer. After
sailing across in a boat one day, and wending our
way through a dirty bazar full of flies and Arabs,
we were directed to the house of the man called “The
Shepherd of the Sewing Machine.” His real
name is Mohammed bin Sooltaan, but nobody knows him
by any other name or title than Raeee el karkhan,
which literally means shepherd of the sewing machine.
Let me tell you his story and how he got that queer
name.

Years ago, as pilot on the native boats that sail
from Bahrein to Bombay, Calcutta, Zanzibar and Jiddah,
he had experience of a wider world than the little
island where he was born. But the life was a hard
one and his wages were small. Moreover, the coming
of steamships up the Gulf took away the profit of
the sailing craft, and so Mohammed fared from bad to
worse. He loved an Arab lass with plaited, well-greased
locks of hair and a pleasant face, but her father
asked a larger dowry than he could ever pay.

An Arab young man must always pay a good price to
the father of his sweetheart before he is allowed
to marry her. But this Mohammed was too poor
to pay the price asked. What a queer topsy-turvy
custom it is for a man to buy his wife just as he
buys a horse or a camel! The Arabs often ask
how much a wife costs in America and wonder that we
are not allowed by the Christian laws to send away
our wives and marry others.

Mohammed could not stay at home so he once more went
in a ship to Jiddah, the port to Mecca, where pilgrims
from all the Moslem world exchange thought and money
for bad bread and fanaticism. And yet even here
the civilisation of the West tries to enter.
Wandering through the bazars Mohammed for the first
time saw a sewing machine, in the hands of an Indian
tailor. A marvel to the sailor fisherman, indeed!